


The Find

by LunaFaye



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Interspecies Sex, Language Barrier, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:10:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2127975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaFaye/pseuds/LunaFaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach escapes the pressures of city life in a small cottage by the sea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Find

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on hiatus from Blood is Thicker. It's a situation I wanted to write for a while but never had the inspiration until now.  
> Thank you to Medeafic for casting her eye over it. 
> 
> Story inspired by this amazing sculpture: "and then I saw Colby on the street and my fantasy died"  
> www.cameronstalheim.com
> 
> Links included at the end of the fic.

Zach wakes with a jolt when the bedroom window, having come loose from its housing, clatters noisily against the frame. The storm had struck suddenly the previous evening, rolling in from the ocean to pelt the little beach house with rain and hail.

The roaring wind blasts its fury at the wall cladding and roof tiles, rattling the windows and tossing twigs and rubbish through the air as it sweeps across the coast. The distant sound of crashing waves is occasionally tempered by the even louder rumble of booming thunder.

Having woken abruptly, Zach tries to settle his breathing until the bothersome window gives motivation enough for him to leave his bed and go fasten it again. The sheer curtains billow around it, the wind teasing its way through the gap. He peers through the pane to the gloom beyond and during a bright lightning strike sees the trees near the house bending alarmingly by the force of the wind. He’d been concerned when the storm initially hit, but the house has stood here for half a century and so he can’t see why it would succumb to even _this_ tempest.

Zach tugs the window closed, re-latches and plods back to bed. He assumes it’s early morning, but in truth he has no idea what time it is. He hadn’t even considered bringing along his watch when he left the city to come and stay in the solace and solitude of the tiny rented cottage. Though late in the summer he’d managed to acquire it for as long as he needed. A friend of an old family friend owned it, but it was seldom used since its location wasn’t entirely favorable. He can see why tonight. It’s being thoroughly pounded by both storm and surf, which is probably what happens whenever the weather here turns particularly nasty.

Six weeks earlier, Zach had driven here with little more than a duffle of clothes and a desperation he’d never previously known. He’d instantly felt how detached from the rest of the world the cottage was, but for all its forlorn appearance it was his utopia.

The nearest town is a few miles further up the highway and even his closest neighbor is an hour’s drive away. His isolation is a risk, but it was what he wanted. No one to ask how he felt, had he eaten, how he had slept, and was he ever going to change out of those pajamas?

He listens to the wind as he lies fully awake on sheets that have become too stuffy and warm. Thoughts of the doctor’s words tumble through his mind. “It’ll take time, stress only heals with time.” Stress: the disease of modern man. It wasn’t a bacterial infection or a virus; it couldn’t be cured with antibiotics or chemo. The only treatment was a letter of resignation and a ten-hour road trip to reach this place of peace, in spite of the weather.

The bedroom illuminates for a brief moment then there’s a loud bang. It makes him jump, but the shock is nothing compared to the abject fear and terror he had felt walking into work that day. He barely remembers how he’d got there, just knew his brain finally refused to function after copious nights of caffeine instead of sleep and coffee instead of food.

The doctor had been kind and understanding, his boss less so. But he had never felt so free and relieved and alive when he handed over that envelope, packed up his desk, and fled the city without even looking back.

With the wind threatening to lift the house away, _Oz here we come!,_ and the sound of the waves pounding the beach Zach, for all the violence around him, eventually falls back asleep.

The morning is in complete contrast to the night’s torment. The sun is bright and barely a cloud mars the perfect blue sky. Zach steps outside, stretches and jogs down to the beach for his usual morning swim. Evidence of the storm litters the shore with great clumps of seaweed, indescribable mounds of debris and the remnants of what looks to be a terribly damaged, but apparently long abandoned rowboat.

He dumps his towel and, dressed in his swim trunks, runs down to the waves, stopping short with a skid on the wet sand when he sees the body lying part way in the now gentle surf. _Oh God! Is it dead?_ He can feel the heave of fear grip his chest, the bubbling dread that boils in his stomach like a turbulent sea. This isn’t a situation he expected he’d have to handle while alone. Miles away from any cause of angst or confrontation, he relied on the seclusion to keep his straining heart and tormented mind calm.

He tries the exercises the doctor gave him, deep, controlled breathing and closes his eyes to think of his childhood home, the last place he’d felt safe. Then, when he opens his eyes, he selfishly thinks his easy life of carefree existence is over as police and ambulance will have to be called and questions will get asked, and statements will have to be made.

Zach takes a tentative step closer. It looks male. He steps closer. The man, because Zach is fairly certain it is a man, has sandy brown hair, which is kind of shortish and ragged from having been in the salt water. His torso is bare and distinctly male with defined pectorals and biceps. Piles of weed and rubbish are strewn across his body as well as a tangle of old fishing net. Perhaps he was a fisherman caught by the storm. The damaged boat seems in worse shape than what might have occurred during the storm; covered in barnacles it seems more like driftwood than a serviceable vessel. When Zach looks back at the man his chest moves in a slow rhythm. He’s breathing!

Zach runs straight to him, instantly cradling the head. He’s unconscious, but his breathing is steady. Zach checks for a pulse and feels one thrumming in the man’s neck. The man’s face is tanned with a straight nose and perfectly curved full lips. His hair is still damp, but ruffles in the breeze, his brows are a darker shade and his lashes clump together as droplets of seawater cling to them. Zach carefully lays him back in the sand and proceeds to remove the weed.

He grabs up a large pile, lifts and hauls it off, almost falling with it when he sees the rest of the man. He has a tail! A fucking tail! Like a -- like a mermaid!

“Oh, shit!” Zach breathes as he stumbles to stop himself from falling. His first inclination is to run back to the house. Jesus, it’s happening again. The hallucinations. His mind playing tricks in its attempt to heal. He stands with his hands over his eyes, urging his brain to focus and see. With a deep breath he lets his hands drop. The sight is no different. On the beach, on his lonely deserted, uninhabited beach lies a man with the tail of a goddamn fish. Maybe he made it to Oz after all.

Stomach churning, he figures whatever craziness that’s dreamt up the situation can’t vouch for hard physical evidence. When he touches him his brain will have little choice but to register that he feels regular human legs.

Steeling himself, Zach kneels beside the man. The top half is very human; it’s just the tail end that makes him a creature of myth. The fishing net is wrapped several times around the tail part, in some places cutting into the flesh. There are a few streams of blood and Zach knows that even if it isn’t a fish, he won’t be able to just walk away. He reaches, slowly, carefully, until his fingertips touch the smooth, silky, slick skin of the tail.

Oh, fuck! It’s a mermaid, uh, that is, a mer _man_. A merman that’s somehow tangled himself in fishing net and washed up on shore. The blood stains the sand and Zach feels a sense of need, the merman needs _him_. He races back to the house, fetching a knife and scissors. He decides it will be easier to free the merman on the beach then perhaps he can get him to the house to treat the wounds.

The fishing net is tough and it takes him most of the morning to cut it away and carefully ease the strong thin threads from the merman’s tail. He has a single moment of hesitation then he stops thinking of the ‘cons’ and scoops the merman up, surprised he feels lighter than he looks. With the tail, _yes it’s definitely a tail_ , hooked over one arm and his torso cradled in the other, Zach walks carefully back to the house.

Unsure where else to put him, Zach lays him on the bed figuring he can easily wash the sheets later. He’s then able to get a proper look and check over the wounds left by the net. The tail is similar to that of a dolphin, because there aren’t any scales and when Zach had touched it, it felt slick and rubbery. He reaches out again and touches the still-wet skin. The hair on the merman’s head, brows and lashes seem to be all the hair he has. His arms are bare, though the skin is freckled and he’s tanned, perhaps from days lolling on beaches with others of his kind.

He has a bellybutton, which to Zach means he was born live and not hatched from an egg. The tail blends into his skin without seam; the skin flowing from tan to the dark grey blue of his tail. The pattern of the tail is a series of large irregular stripes running horizontally down the length, darker on the back and fading to nothing on the softer pale grey of his underbelly. Zach had felt the firm edge of what seemed to be a dorsal ridge of sorts along his back, but it’s not prominent enough and so Zach hopes it won’t cause discomfort since the merman is lying on it. Twin pelvic fins, like those of a shark are situated at his hips. Between them, nestled behind two flaps is a soft cylindrical shaft of flesh. Partly protected by the flaps, the upper half is exposed, but the penis, because what else would it be, is still protected by the concave niche in the tail. Two more fins are located further down, along his shins, if he’d had any. The peduncle that joins tail to tail fin is skinnier than a dolphin, tapering to the large flat flukes that seem much larger than a dolphin’s tail as well, as it hangs over the edge of the bed.

The lacerations from the net crisscross the merman’s tail, and though there aren’t many deep enough to bleed, Zach hurries to find a way to steep the flow of blood. He returns with several towels and for a moment stands in the doorway watching in awe as the creature lies sleeping on his bed. _My God, he’s really there_ , his mind can’t be playing tricks with this one. It’s far too real.

He dabs at the blood and wonders if bandaids would work or if he’ll have to drive into town for something more substantial. One of the merman’s arms is flung out and he lifts the wrist to place it across his chest. He stops when he sees the hands. A delicate webbed membrane links the merman’s fingers up to the first knuckle. He otherwise has hands like a human, and even has fingernails. He’s cool to the touch and seems to exude a kind of dampness.

His wounds stop bleeding and Zach thinks maybe they’ll heal on their own, but goes to the bathroom to check for bandaids just in case.

When he returns he’s met by a pair of very frightened, but strikingly beautiful, bright blue eyes. He drops the packet of bandaids in time to cover his ears against the piercing, high pitched shriek the merman suddenly emits. Over and over he screeches and Zach can _feel_ the sound in his chest and head. The merman lurches off the bed, falls heavily and hard, and though he hits his head on the floorboards, he manages to get himself up on his arms.

The scream stops and Zach clutches the door jamb, his mouth dry and his heart racing. Now the creature is awake he wonders if bringing him into the house was such a good idea. He’s heard stories of people hauling in sharks only to lose limbs, and quite possibly lives, as the dying animal lashes out, biting down on anything that comes close.

He hears the merman in another room, the _thump_ , _thump_ of his hands as he drags himself along, the scrape of furniture shifting out of the way. Zach goes to find him and sees intermittent splotches of blood on the floor. In the commotion he’s managed to open a few of his wounds again.

Concerned that the merman will only injure himself further, Zach stops worrying about the potential danger and hurries after him.

“Stop, wait,” says Zach, wiping up blood as he follows the merman out into the lounge. The creature turns and sees Zach. Zach holds out the bloodied towel. “You’re hurt.”

The merman looks at the blood stained material and turns, shying away from Zach to try a different escape route. “Stop,” says Zach and gets close enough to place a hand on the merman’s shoulder.

“Yeeda! Nay harlo ber reegana!” says the merman and twists out of Zach’s grasp before he starts moving again.

Zach stalls, the merman can talk. _Perhaps it is a dream_ , but Zach would think he’d know what the merman was saying, given the way dreams work. Usually it all makes sense in the dream. _And if it’s not?_ As far as Zach’s concerned, his grip on reality is far stronger than what it was several weeks ago. _No, this is real. There’s a merman in the house and he’s hurt._

Zach goes after him and tries again. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand you, but look, you’re hurt,” he says waving the towel at him. The merman doesn’t seem to care and crawls across the floor, looking for a way out when he reaches another open doorway. Zach does the only thing he can think of, and grabs the end of the merman’s tail.

“Yeeda!” he hollers, twisting around until he’s belly up and flicks his tail with such strength Zach is forced to let go, falling backwards onto his ass. The merman flips back and continues crawling with surprising agility. But Zach’s seen the smear of red across the merman’s underside.

“Wait!” Zach calls as he stands. “Jesus. Would you just fucking wait!”

When he finds the merman again he’s reached the kitchen, smudges of blood trail behind and Zach is trying to mop them up as well as get to the creature before he hurts himself further.

The merman is speaking in his language and though they are two different species, just by the tone Zach can tell the creature is angry and most probably very frightened.

“Please stop,” he says coming around to head the merman off before crouching down to his eye-line. Those blue eyes, cerulean, like the deep end of a pool stare back in confusion and fear. “Please; I want to help you,” he says gently. The merman seems to catch the softer tone as Zach had hoped. “You’re hurt, let me help you then I can get you back to the sea.”

The merman blinks but Zach can see the calculated intelligence behind the eyes. Surely he must know Zach can help him. “See?” says the merman.

Zach nods, “That’s right, the sea.” He holds up the bloodied towel and the merman seems to understand Zach is indicating his wounds. The merman tentatively nods and slowly turns onto his back. “It would be easier in the bedroom,” says Zach. He crouches next to the merman and with lots of eye contact and gentle movements shows he’s going to pick the merman up. The merman puts his arms about Zach’s neck allowing Zach to take him through to the bedroom before he carefully places him back onto the damp sheets.

“Lei uuta don fleeb. Yamma beesot bo doetah,” says the merman.

“I don’t understand you,” says Zach. “No more than you can probably understand me.” He had thought the ear shattering scream earlier was how the merman would speak, like dolphins and whales use squeaks and clicks to communicate. The fact that he has a language means there really are others and they must spend time above water to have the ability to talk effectively. Zach’s pretty sure the sound of talking in general would not carry so well under water. Perhaps the scream was a cry for help and since he wasn’t in water it would go no further than the confines of the bedroom. It’s a humbling thought when he realizes another species exists that can communicate with the same amount of sophistication as humans.

The merman looks about, sees a glass of water on the nightstand and reaches for it. It’s just shy of his fingertips so Zach passes it to him and he instantly tips it over himself.

“Lei uuta don fleeb,” he says firmly.

“Oh shit, you have to be wet?” says Zach. “Okay, um, what if I wet some towels?”

“Lei uuta don fleeb,” says the merman, his words are more pronounced and said at a slower pace as though trying to get Zach to understand. He spreads the spilt puddle of water over himself with his hand.

“Okay, okay, don’t panic.” Zach goes into the bathroom and pulls a towel off the rack before soaking it under the faucet. He’d anticipated the merman would somehow magically acquire legs being on land, but it seems clear that this is how he is; a creature of the sea. Zach’s almost disappointed there’s nothing really magical about it, just another species of human that inhabits the planet. But even so, he’s still semi-reeling by the fact that there’s a _merman_ in his bedroom!

Towel dripping, Zach brings it to the bedroom, and drapes it lengthways across the merman’s body.

“Jum trarta,” says Chris and seems to relax a little. But blood is seeping into the sodden fabric.

“We really need to fix those cuts.” Zach gently lifts a corner and sees the varying cuts running across the tail. Three seem deeper that the rest and are the ones leaching blood. They’re clean and neat like a paper cut but one is narrowly missing the merman’s genitals. Zach takes another clean, dry towel and dabs at the wounds.

“Kay krs marmar,” says the merman. Zach looks up, hoping he looks puzzled enough. The merman lifts a hand and presses a finger to his chest. “Krs.”

“Chris? Is that your name? Chris?”

“Chris,” says the merman. It’s not a perfect pronunciation, but he seems satisfied.

“Zach,” says Zach pointing to his own chest.

“Zzhak,” says the merman. He keeps his teeth together a bit too long on the Z, but Zach smiles and nods.

The bleeding stops and Zach replaces the damp towel over the merman’s tail. Zach’s stomach growls and he suddenly feels very hungry. He hasn’t even had breakfast yet since he usually swims before he eats. But after finding the merman, his attention has been focused on a lot more than his protesting stomach.

“Are you hungry, Chris?” he asks and makes the motion of eating, taking a bite out of nothing between his fingers.

“Chunchu,” says the merman and seems to agree with the idea.

“Well, I guess I could just bring you something and we can go from there.”

With no idea what a merman is likely to eat, Zach takes the presumptuous route of emptying a packet of smoked salmon on a plate before fixing himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He brings the food in on a tray and shows the salmon to the merman.

Chris stares at the salmon for a moment then takes a slice all the while watching Zach. He stuffs the entire piece into his mouth chewing hungrily before he grabs the next one.

“Crisis averted,” says Zach and bites into his sandwich. Chris watches him eating and seems to wonder why Zach’s food is different from his own. “Oh, did you want to try?” Zach asks and offers the other half of his sandwich. Chris gives it a sniff, tastes with the tip of his tongue then takes a great bite right out of the middle. It leaves peanut butter and jelly on his cheeks, but the merman seems thrilled at the new food. “Guess you don’t eat a lot of PB&Js down there.”

Chris finishes the sandwich and Zach is forced to make more until the creature has eaten his way through four of them.

“You must have been famished!” Zach comments. He peels away the towel to inspect the merman’s wounds. They almost seem healed. Maybe they have a faster healing ability than humans, like dolphins do. He’s thankful he’d recently seen a documentary on the sea creatures. One of the doctor’s suggestions was to holiday near the ocean. Zach had researched and learned a great deal about the environment before he came to stay.

Though Chris isn’t a dolphin, there are definite similarities. Like people being not all that dissimilar to monkeys. Perhaps merpeople evolved from dolphins.

“Ghurn lait markel,” says Chris his arm outstretched, reaching. Zach replaces the towel and steps up to him. Chris takes his hand and gently runs his fingers over the hair that’s growing on Zach’s arms. He does this to both arms, clearly fascinated that the man who’s taken him in is covered in the stuff.

“Yeah, I’m a little hairy,” says Zach. But Chris keeps going, smoothing hands over Zach’s chest, inadvertently teasing his nipples which makes Zach gasp softly. Down over his abdomen he hesitates momentarily to compare the fact that they both have bellybuttons, then even further were the hair begins to thicken before disappearing under the waist of Zach’s shorts. The fingers stop at the elastic.

“Sheeden bo goona parparl monen,” says Chris looking up at Zach while he pinches at the fabric of Zach’s shorts. It’s the only piece of clothing Zach is wearing.

“Swimming trunks,” says Zach making the movement of freestyle swimming. “For, you know, swimming.”

“Jor leebee non harktoo leebee,” says Chris gesturing that _his_ body is not wearing swimming trunks and plucks the elastic so it snaps against Zach’s stomach.

“Oh,” says Zach and already he can feel the heat prickle over his neck and cheeks. “Guess you’re curious then.” Strange though the situation is, Zach feels compelled to provide the merman with an answer. He’s obviously curious as to where the hair leads, and since he barely has any other than what’s on his head, surely there’s no harm in satisfying his need to know. Aside from a small niggle of self-consciousness, Zach feels his heart beating at the same steady pace. He isn’t afraid.

Chris is looking at him expectantly. “Well, we’re all men here, of a fashion,” says Zach decisively and hooks his fingers in the waistband before pulling the trunks down and letting them fall to the floor.

Clearly in awe, Chris strokes his fingers through the dark bush of Zach’s pubic hair, marveling at perhaps it’s color, texture and with little doubt, the amount of it. Zach’s not sure what he expected to see on Chris’s face, but the merman has an expression of intense curiosity when he begins staring pointedly at Zach’s cock.

“Arbaneetha,” Chris breathes then looks up at Zach. “Arbaneetha jor toon cray narda.” Having a man as attractive as Chris, well, part man, ogling him is enough for Zach’s dick to give a twitch.

“Yeah, it’s my dick,” says Zach thinking he’ll give the merman a minute longer to stare and point before he pulls the trunks back on. It’s all very well for _him_ to lie about naked, but then Zach doesn’t think Chris has worn a piece of clothing in his life. Anyway, it would probably cause drag when swimming.

Chris gestures, beckoning, and Zach, though apprehensive and perhaps a little self-conscious now, steps closer. He shudders when Chris touches him. He doesn’t know why he’s even allowing it, but it’s hardly surprising they would be an inquisitive species, not unlike humans. The hair alone would maybe be a curiosity in itself, but Zach wonders if Chris has ever seen a human before. And what if, like humans, the merpeople have stories about a mysterious race that lives on the land?

Then Chris sits forward and places the softest and sweetest of kisses to the shaft of Zach’s cock.

“Arbaneetha,” he whispers and kisses it again, open mouthed with a touch of tongue and for a moment noses a little way into Zach’s bush.

That’s all it takes. Zach feels a sudden surge in his balls and he has no control over the outcome when his cock begins to swell to the wonder of Chris’s large, round eyes. Zach feels the skin of his face burn while Chris marvels at the growing phallus.

“Okay, dude; you have one, I have one. Can’t say I’ve ever had anyone do that to it before, but I think we need a little more than soaked towels for the direction this is going.”

Chris has other ideas and takes the head of Zach’s cock into his mouth.

“Oh, oh fuck,” says Zach and takes an involuntary step forward to grant Chris an easier hold. When he recovers from the shock for a fleeting, practically negligible moment he can see the situation turning nasty, but Chris only sucks at him harder. Instinctively Zach reaches, combing a hand through Chris’s hair. “Jesus, dude, are you sure…I mean, this isn’t necessary.” He groans, gripping Chris’s hair in his fist which seems to encourage him. There’s no intended malice. Zach squashes his shame. Chris seems a placid creature, no more vindictive in nature than Zach is.

The merman, either by experience or the physiology of his mouth takes Zach’s entire, fully engorged length down his throat, sucking in firmly each time he pulls Zach’s dick into his mouth. “Oh, Jesus,” Zach sighs, shifting his feet a little and tilting his hips. Over and over Chris buries his nose into Zach’s pubic hair, tugging at him in great swallows until Zach feels his balls clench. But just as he’s getting close Chris pulls off with a loud pop, leaving Zach’s quivering, saliva soaked cock standing at attention.

It gives him a moment to gain control again and that’s when Zach notices the towel over Chris’s hips is jutting upward. Fully aware of what has happened and hardly believing what _is_ happening, Zach reaches down and strokes over the hardness that’s tenting the wet material with his fingertips.

Chris laps at Zach’s swollen head then rips the towel away exposing a fully hardened penis that’s in almost every way the same as Zach’s own. The only real difference is the color. The head is dark grey with the shaft a tone lighter, the same shade of paler blue-grey as his underbelly, and the niche the organ was resting in is a slightly darker hue. The protective flaps have unfurled, obviously to release the cock when it swelled to erection. Further under the penis, where the organ joins the body is a small sphincter of darker, puckered flesh. Zach can’t see the merman’s scrotum, or what might indicate one and thinks perhaps his balls are located somewhere inside.

Chris pulls Zach to him, urging him to straddle his hips. “I don’t want to hurt you,” says Zach, “What if the cuts open?”

The merman doesn’t seem to be concerned and keeps tugging at Zach’s arm until he awkwardly mounts the tail. Watching those intense blue eyes for any sign of fear or disapproval Zach settles his knees either side of the merman’s hips. The only thing reflected back is a deep resounding lust.

Chris cups his face and brings him in closer for a kiss. The merman’s lips are soft and salty and before Zach really thinks about what he’s doing he opens his mouth so Chris can explore him with his tongue. Unadulterated peace floods through Zach’s churning body. The uncertainty he’d felt, the fears for his future and the memories of the past melt away as the merman caresses his mouth with his own. Zach puts his arms around Chris’s shoulders surrendering himself to the kiss tasting the freshness of sea and air and the bliss of nature’s wonder. _Yes, this is what life is_ , diving in without checking the depth; facing the danger with the knowledge that only a better person can emerge from the depths. There seems a little magic after all.

Their dicks press against each other as Chris’s hands smooth over Zach’s back and in a way Zach can feel him exploring and discovering, learning more about his species through the act of intimacy.

Zach carefully runs his fingers over the hard dorsal ridge. It crests higher near the center, but disappears before reaching the merman’s waist. Another pair of shark-like fins protrudes from his triceps, but they’re small and unobtrusive, and perhaps a little sensitive when Zach traces his fingers over them to the sound of Chris’s moan.

Chris’s hips begin to rut, a slow gentle rhythm that causes their dicks to rub against each other. Zach moans and joins in and feels his balls cupped by the niche. The flaps that held Chris’s cock fold up, gripping his sac between them before they begin a strange rippling vibration.

“Oh, fuck,” Zach murmurs, kissing Chris harder.

“Arbaneetha jor toon Zach, cray narda,” Chris breathes his tongue licking into Zach’s mouth when he bucks up hard with his hips.

“I don’t know what that means,” says Zach and pulls away from the kiss with some reluctance and he hopes to understand better if he looks into those eyes.

“Arbaneetha jor toon cray narda,” says Chris. His pupils are blown wide, depthless black surrounded by a halo of sapphire. He curls forward, swirling his tongue over one of Zach’s nipples, lapping at the hair while his hands continue to stroke over his forearms.

“Aw, Jesus, dude,” Zach sighs, closing his eyes when Chris lightly nips.

The merman reaches between them, takes hold of Zach’s cock and pumps it firmly.

Zach groans at the sudden surge of pressure and leans back on his hands pushing his hips against the merman’s hand. Chris, now there’s room between them, tugs at Zach’s dick, angling him, guiding him to the niche.

Zach looks at what Chris is trying to convey. “You want me to fuck you?” he says sitting up.

“Arbaneetha jor toon Zach, cray narda,” says Chris and pulls Zach’s dick to the niche, jerking his hips in encouragement.

“Wow, I think you do,” says Zach. “But you’re getting dry.” A slight crusting has started near one of the pelvic fins. He runs a hand over the Chris’s chest and tries to remember what the merman had said. “Don fleeb?”

“Lei uuta don fleeb,” says Chris sitting up.

“Dude, we gotta get you wet again.” Chris clings to him when he moves to stand, his grasp strong. “Don fleeb!” says Zach and pulls out of the merman’s grip.

The bathroom holds a large claw foot tub. Zach immediately turns the taps, making the water tepid. He hurries to the kitchen and back, pouring in table salt which he mixes by swishing his arm in the water. He’s not sure if it’s precisely seawater, but it has to be better than straight up fresh.

Once the bath is almost full Zach comes back to the bedroom. The crust has spread and Chris looks a little tired.

“Okay buddy, let’s get you soaked. He scoops him up again and carries him into the bathroom. The moment Chris sinks into the water he lets out a sigh. He doesn’t quite fit, the large tail fin hangs over the edge, but Chris doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Lei uuta don fleeb,” he says. “Zach chu my harna weycun.”

“You’re welcome, I think,” says Zach. With the merman looking a lot better he’s relieved, if a little disappointed their moment together has been spoiled.

Chris holds out his dripping arm, reaching for Zach. “Arbaneetha jor toon Zach, cray narda,”

“Arbaneetha? Still?” says Zach. His cock has softened somewhat, but Chris’s erection is far from giving up. “How will that work in the tub?”

“Chey, chey jor toon Zach.” Chris keeps his arm outstretched, urging Zach to ‘come hither’.

Zach takes his hand and it isn’t long before he’s in the tub, once again straddling the merman’s tail with Chris’s eager hands smoothing lukewarm water over the hair on Zach’s chest and arms. Before Zach settles, Chris sinks under the water and takes Zach’s cock into his mouth again.

“Oh Jesus,” Zach sighs, in moments his cock has swelled to fullness once more. When he’s hard, Chris slides back up.

“Arbaneetha jor toon cray narda,” says Chris pulling on Zach’s hips and taking hold of his cock, pressing it to the niche. Chris lifts his hips a little urging Zach to comply. The water comes up to Zach’s waist in the deep bathtub, and adds a new sense of feeling as Chris presses Zach’s cock to the slippery, wet rubbery skin of his tail.

“This is just too weird,” says Zach watching the merman’s hand as Chris tries to convey his need. “Do we need lube? A condom? Anything?”

“Arbaneetha Zach,” says Chris squeezing Zach’s ass cheek with his free hand. “Cray narda.”

“Fuck, dude, I just…” Zach shifts forward, pushing himself in under the merman’s cock until he nudges the small puckering he’d seen earlier.

“Arbaneetha, arbaneethahh,” Chris groans and Zach feels the niche squeezing around him, the flaps closing around his balls. He pushes forward breaching the opening as he slides in. Chris feels surprisingly warm, encasing Zach’s cock in a soft heat that’s similar to the radiant burn that’s throbbing in his sac.

“Jesus,” Zach manages to grate out. “You feel incredible.”

“Shutoo,” Chris groans, his head lolling back and forth against the edge of the bath. “Shutoo!” His tail vibrates, the tail fin flapping spasmodically.

Zach steadies himself, his cock and balls rippling with sensations as the merman’s body cups and grips and squeezes around him. “Oh fuck,” he moans, leaning on Chris’s chest. He slides in to the hilt, Chris’s tail jerks, his own cock pressed between their bodies. “Oh fuck, Chris, oh fuck this feels amazing. I can’t believe I’m fucking a fish!”

Chris grips his ass cheeks pulling him closer, indicating that Zach move. Staring down into those fathomless eyes Zach thrusts his hips, shuddering almost uncontrollably as Chris’s body keeps a firm grip and he succumbs to those rippling sensations that surround his dick and reverberate through his balls. The water in the tub splashes up his arms and slops over the side.

“Ah, ah, cray Krs narda, arbaneetha,” says Chris. He moves his pelvis against Zach’s rutting hips groaning while his cock rubs between them. Zach leans on his hands, gripping the bath’s edge. It feels odd to be fucking in a bath with his lover’s body between his legs, but it’s so damn good he quickly forgets the absurdity of the situation.

Chris is caressing his face murmuring words that Zach doesn’t understand. His tail curls forward pushing Zach closer, urging him deeper. Zach groans, straightens so his hands have to rest on Chris’s chest. The merman holds his wrists and Zach feels the delicate membrane between thumb and forefinger stretch around his arm. Water is going everywhere with the momentum of Zach moving back and forth. Waves of it splash over the sides, dousing Chris’s tail fin and up Zach’s back.

“Dude,” Zach pants, “am I allowed to come inside you?” Chris only replies with a groan. Zach can feel the merman’s tail shuddering beneath him, the vibrations radiate through his cock and into his balls. He grunts in rhythmic succession then with a loud groan his balls clench and he shoots into the merman’s body.

Pitching forward, Zach grips the edge. The merman lifts himself clinging to Zach’s soaked chest and curls his tail further, keeping Zach inside him while Zach’s orgasm abates in a series of shuddering spasms.

“Cray narda,” Chris whispers stroking Zach’s hair. Breathing hard, Zach slowly rises and gently slides out of the merman’s body. Chris’s cock is still just as hard and turgid. They’ve lost so much water the bulbous tip and half its length is above the surface. Zach kisses him, but moves from his mouth to trail kisses along his jaw, down his throat to his chest. He licks and kisses Chris’s nipples, since they too must be erogenous zones. He’s rewarded with soft sighs and a hand fisting tightly in his hair.

He slides further down the merman’s body, Chris’s tail still between his legs, and dips his tongue into Chris’s bellybutton before he does as Chris had first done to him. Swirling his tongue about the firm, rigid head of Chris’s dick, it doesn’t feel any different to any other man other than the taste is a lot saltier. He manages to slide most of Chris into his mouth, before the water threatens to go up his nose. Chris is moaning, his hands combing over Zach’s head as he sucks long and slow. He tentatively pulls off slicking up Chris’s cock with saliva before he takes a firm hold with his hand. He figures the opening he had fucked is just as sensitive and while he strokes Chris’s shaft he slips a finger over the edge of the flaps before pushing three digits down into the cavity and past the opening.

Chris keens, lurches under Zach’s body, his tail beating against the bath edge and his hands fisting and tugging at Zach’s hair. Zach feels, with the tips of his fingers, two small slime-covered bumps in the depths of Chris’s body. He strokes them firmly and is pleased to learn they’re what had made Chris cry out. The merman does so again, raking his fingers through Zach’s hair as he continues to rub circles over the small swellings, his other hand pumping Chris’s cock firmly.

“Cray narda, ah, cray narda arbaneetha-ahh!” Chris cries and his cock spurts white, creamy come over his belly. It swills away when the sloshing bath water flows across his stomach. The merman quakes with the force of his orgasm. Zach keeps jacking and stroking as Chris almost shudders out of his skin. A vibrant wash of blue gray color sweeps over his torso, his tail shaking under Zach’s loose balls.

Zach pulls his fingers out and carefully releases the twitching cock. He watches in fascination when it wilts returning to the niche before the folds of skin encase it once more. Chris eyes Zach with a look of post-coital bliss and a shiver runs through him as he scoops up handfuls of water to splash across his body.

Zach eases himself out of the tub to stretch his cramped legs. The floor is flooded with water and he spreads the few remaining towels he has to help soak it up.

“Well, that was a first,” he says, perching on the side of the bath. He checks over Chris’s tail, worried their coupling will have reopened the wounds. He gently presses the cuts, pleased to see they’ve closed.

“Drel coom arbaneetha?” says Chris. “Yetik hooda.”

Zach chuckles. “No, no arbaneetha just yet,” he says, unsure what Chris said, but recognizes the word that’s clearly associated with sex. The afternoon light penetrates the room and he realizes it’s quite late in the day. “Although, it might be time to get you home,” he says with a sigh of resignation. He’s become quite attached to the merman, in spite of their only knowing each other since the morning. Though reluctant, he can’t expect Chris to live in his bath. Besides, he’s sure to have family and other merpeople who are wondering where he is.

He leans over the tub and scoops Chris out of the water much to Chris’s confusion. “Lei uuta don fleeb,” he says.

“Nah, buddy. I think you need to get back to the ocean.” Chris clings to his neck and kisses his cheek, and licks over the edge of his ear. “You’re a friendly race once you get over your fear, I’ll give you that.”

When Zach reaches the beach, Chris seems to know what Zach is doing and flicks his tail in excitement. Zach steps into the chilly water, but the sun is still warm, and he keeps walking forward until he can feel the water lapping at Chris’s back. He carefully lets go of Chris’s tail, but the merman keeps his arms about Zach’s neck until he pulls him into a kiss. Zach holds Chris’s waist and feels the pelvic fins against his bare thighs, and the bulge of Chris’s sheathed cock pressing into his own.

The open mouthed kiss continues until tongues are dancing and Zach can’t believe the first flutter of a life beyond his breakdown has been brought about by a creature he’d only thought existed in fairytales.

Having been alone for almost two months, to suddenly have company has quelled a despondency Zach didn’t even know was there. The fact that his companion is a creature no one has ever seen, let alone interacted with makes the situation even more unparalleled. The exercises his doctor had given to ease any tension seem suddenly inconsequential. He is, however, saddened that he probably won’t see Chris again.

There may not be any magic, but Zach knows his life has changed forever and the thought is appealing and resolute and surprisingly consoling. The delicate thread that held his mental stability strengthens with the reasoning that there is far more to life than corporate convention. Zach wants to experience it, embrace it and procure a life filled with discovery and wonder and not get tied up in regret.

Chris eventually pulls away and slips down into the water. Waist deep Zach watches as the merman dips beneath the surface for a moment and again places a soft kiss to Zach’s cock.

“Strange creatures,” says Zach, “But you gotta love _that_ custom.”

Chris resurfaces, blinking, the smile on his face beaming. “Arbaneetha jor toon cray narda, Zach,” he says. “Jun jun kodra teepmen.” Then with a swift flick of his tail he surges away, splashing up water when he dives under.

“Bye, Chris. You are one hell of a find,” says Zach and turns back towards the house.

Later that night, Zach makes a bonfire on the beach to help clear away the rubbish from the storm. He’d abandoned his bed since the sheets were still soaked and there was far too much sand for his liking. Sleep is the farthest thing from his mind anyway and the night is lovely and warm. He stares into the fire feeling incredibly satisfied when he sees the fishing net burn and crumble amongst the embers, just like his old life.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever go back, maybe to tie up a few loose ends, but certainly not anything permanent. He wants to make an offer on the cottage, then maybe look for a job in the town, or see what he can do about an internet connection and look to work online. A simpler life is all he wants, one that enables him to _live_!

The crashing waves are soothing and he leans back with his elbows in the sand watching the flames. Perhaps he’ll take up sailing. Or learn to scuba dive. He won’t admit to the true purpose of a sudden interest in exploring the ocean. But the fluttering in his heart is steeped with a longing and a pleading wish that the experience was not an isolated incident.

And then a face, a beautiful face with striking eyes emerges from the shadowed shoreline and into the firelight. Water drips from the chin and the hair is plastered to the head. Not a word is spoken as Zach spreads his legs so the merman can climb up over his body. Chris’s mouth connects with Zach’s and though his shirt and shorts become soaked, Zach welcomes the embrace and eagerly opens to Chris’s questing tongue. Lying back on the sand he holds Chris close, enjoying the feel of the thick, wet, rubbery tail writhing between his thighs.

Chris pulls back, his eyes making Zach catch his breath. Drops of sea water splash on Zach’s forehead and cheeks.

“Arbaneetha, Zach?” Chris asks.

Zach replies with a kiss and an urgent up thrust of his aching cock.

 

~fin~ ;)

 

Story inspired by this amazing sculpture:

"and then I saw Colby on the street and my fantasy died"

[www.cameronstalheim.com](http://www.cameronstalheim.com/)


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